What If?
by ICan'tComeUpWithABetterName
Summary: A collection of What if? one-shots starring Fanfic poster child Jaune Arc. Each one-shot will be a self-contained story featuring different What if? scenarios. #4 "What if?... Jaune Arc was in a rebellious phase, and Nora started a riot."
1. What if? 1

" **What if?... Jaune was expelled from Beacon and became a bounty hunter instead."**

"You believe in electricity?" he said as he connected one end of a jumper cable to a car battery. I don't know how I constantly find myself in these situations, handcuffed to a chair, crazy lunatic with a car battery, all located in an abandoned building. It's almost too cliché. Granted I've got to give points for whole, "believe in electricity?" bit. It was very well done. Who knew bounty hunting had this many work place hazards? I could've been a doctor, probably even a lawyer, whichever job pays better. Heck, even being a farmer or something was more logical. _Why did I decide to do this again…oh right._

 _..._

It was the beginning of November, the snow had just started to fall, and at the rate it was going, were expecting at least a foot of snow. Here I found myself with my one bag full of clothes and only about $200 in lien. Who knew they'd find out about the fake transcripts. That pretty much left me homeless, and since my Dad was currently disappointed in me and my current course in life, I could expect no help from him. My mother and sisters would be worried sick, but I couldn't go back a failure, not this time. I had nothing but my wits, a small amount of lien and about 2 days' worth of clothes. It should have been a piece of cake.

By the end of the week I was broke and had my bag stolen. If my wits were a physical object, I'm pretty sure they'd be gone too. Luckily enough the public libraries' security is pretty lax, so I was able to crash there for a bit. I was really up the proverbial "shit creek" when, by chance, I saw a sign. Not the proverbial one, but a literal sign.

 _Need Money? Have a Need for Justice?_

 _Become a Bounty Hunter Today_

 _No training or special skills required*_

 _*We take no legal responsibilities for anything that might happen to you._

Do I have the skills, not really, do I have a need for justice, eh. But I could really use the money, plus being a bounty hunter sounds pretty cool, like Boba Fett, Django and Dog the Bounty Hunter. I mean how hard can it be?

...

The initial shock brought me out of my reminiscence; the following three were the guy just being an asshole.

"Now do you want to talk?" He said with a thick accent, that was maybe Atlesian, probably Mistralian. I knew his name was most likely Stephen though, they were always named Stephen.

"Ok, listen to me here, Stephen." I say repositioning myself on the chair only for another burst of electricity to pulse through it.

"It's STEVEN!" He yells.

"I knew that, of course." _Wasn't that what I said, I mean Stephen and Steven, who can tell the difference._

"Now tell me what you know about this woman." He says holding a picture of a familiar face in front of me. _Great, what the hell have you gotten yourself into now?_

"Well, where do I begin?" I say trying to get into a comfortable position, which is hard to do when handcuffed to a chair.

"Start at the beginning."

Fin

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey, I'm back with a new piece that will most likely never get finished. Just Kidding, maybe.**

 **But seriously, this is the start of a few one-shots I have written but never published called "What Ifs?..." Each will be their own self-contained stories and give a small glimpse into the what ifs of Jaune's life.**

 **Feel free to leave a review on what you thought of this one, positive or negative, I try to learn from the words you all say. And I should be uploading the next one-shot soon.**

 **Till next time.**


	2. What if? 2

_"_ What if?... Jaune really needed some extra spending cash, and Ozpin needed a lab rat."

"Ok, let hour one begin," I say to myself as I settle into the hotel room. It looks like every other hotel room, a single bed, mini-fridge, some painting on the wall that I guess isn't fancy enough for an art gallery. Why am I in this situation, locked in this room for "hours?" Money of course. I mean for the number of zeroes they put at the end of that cheque, I could care less about the "psychological experimentation on the human psyche". But free money, am I right? I pace around to get a feel of the room, the room itself is not really noteworthy. The bed was comfortable enough, at least roadside motel worthy. I walk over to the mini-fridge and surprisingly they actually had drinks in there.

"Random drinks from a hotel mini-fridge, totally nothing to be cautious of." I say as I close the fridge to sit on the semi-comfortable bed, grabbing the TV remote.

"At least they gave me a TV."

Static, _click_ , more static

I've seen The Ring, I know how this ends. I shut the static off and lie down, taking one last look to make sure the static doesn't return, which it doesn't, thankfully. I take out the list they gave to me. No scrolls, No Internet, No outside connection. "Great, this will be fun." I put the paper back in my pocket. Is thinking "What's the worst that can happen?" too cliché?

….

Is it hour four or five now? I'm quickly running out of things to preoccupy my mind with. Pillow Fort, done. Blanket town was also established, before it was invade by the pillow fort. I currently find myself living in the Pillow-Blanket colony. Earlier I ventured into the bathroom land, Towel Ville is planning an invasion, I'm sure of it.

…

Hunger is starting to get to me, I think, if that strange noise from my stomach is any indication. The strange beverages in the mini-fridge are calling to me. I can hear them in their squeaky, fizz filled voices, enticing me. I am not fooled. It's what the people in the walls want me to do, so they can do their "Psychiclogical experiments" on me. I've been tested, I am not a psychic, the force is not real, the doctors just said I had a huge imagination.

 _Grrgbb_

Now the voice in my stomach is starting to question me.

…..

The Static consumes the room as I sit here. It took a while, but I now see the enjoyment the Static brings, I can see the stories it's telling within the fuzziness. I can feel the dryness of my mouth as I walk towards the mini-fridge. There was silence, then the sound of squeaky-fizz filled friend, that cruel temptress from the fridge..

...

A grey haired man is sitting at a wooden desk as gears turn around him, eyes glued to his monitor, mug glued to his hands. He's intrigued by the length of which young Arc has been able to withstand the experiment, far longer than anyone before him.

"How long has it been sir?" A feminine voice says to the right of the man, scroll in her hands as she watches the experiment from it,

"He's been the best subject we've had so far Glynda." the grey haired man takes a sip from his mug. "He's almost lasted the full hour."

"That's a new record." Glyna replies surprised at the statement.

 _"TOWEL VILLE IS INVADING!"_ Jaune's voice echoes through Glynda scroll's speakers.

Fin

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello again, 2 chapters in one day, this will never happen again. That's like a 200% improvement to my other stories.**

 **This one-shot might be familiar if you've read Trails of Jaune Arc, except with some rewrites. Just wanted to put this out there, I have no plans on making any of these What If's into their own series, but I'm all for people taking these What if's and creating their own stories. I like to think of these as series pilots, they have room to grow and be expanded upon. So each of these what if's are up for adoption, feel free to use them as a base for your own stories.**

 **As always, feel free to review, and if you have any ideas for What If's? I'm all ears.**

 **Till next time.**


	3. What if? 3

" **What if?... Jaune became a detective (AU)** "

Of all the rundown bars, in all of the shit holes towns selling cheap whiskey, this asshole had to walk into the one I'm currently occupying. Just my luck.

...

I can see my destination just ahead. To most it's just some rundown bar in the north of nowhere and south of nothing, but to me it's the place where I can find my next clue. I glance at the open folder currently sitting on the passenger seat and looked at the wanted poster inside.

 _Cardin Winchester wanted for multiple counts of armed robbery. Caucasian male. Early twenties. Six feet, Indigo Eyes, Burnt Orange Hair. Tattoo of a bird on his left forearm. Possibly mentally unstable, proceed with caution._

I need to know these details. He may be a small fry compared to the other cases I've worked on, but this wasn't the time to get cocky. It could go wrong any second, and I needed to watch out for those moments. I never really took cases like this, on the outskirts of towns. There are too many problems to run into, too many variables. I didn't like it.

But it's not my job to like it. My job is to get this shit done with as minimal problems as possible. Suffice to say I'm not too great at what I do.

...

I'm not too sure what came first, the scream from the waitress or the gunshot from the asshole. Quite frankly I don't care; they made me spill my cheap whiskey, and I was already having a bad day.

"Give me all the money in the till!" Said asshole yells pointing his gun at the bartender. I'd assume that they'd only have about five hundred in the till, if that. The night hasn't been that busy, and it's a Thursday. Not an opportune time to stick a place up, especially a bar.

...

They say that if you're looking for information on anyone or anything, this is the place to go. The Pub, could tell someone put a lot of effort into that name, though it does have a certain _Je Ne Sais Quoi_. The flashy neon sign I feel is a tad too much.

I pull into the empty parking lot, if you'd call it that. I grab the wanted poster from the folder and put it into my coat pocket. This place better have what I'm looking for, or I just drove all the way out here for nothing. I get out of the car and lock the doors, you couldn't be too careful.

"What a real shit hole." I say aloud as I approach the building.

"Then you'll fit in just fine."

 _Shit._

 _..._

I glance over the asshole with gun. Looks about six feet, maybe six foot one. The ski mask over his face makes it hard to see his hair and face. Judging from the color of his neck I'd say he was Caucasian. _Well my drink is empty anyways, might as well ask for a refill._

"Excuse me waitress."

...

That familiar feminine voice, last time I heard it there was a gun to my head and her standing at the other end of it. Not particularly a fond memory. As a precaution I rest my hand on my side, right where said gun was holstered. You couldn't be too careful around her.

I look towards the entrance of The Pub, and there she was, strutting out of the place like she owned it. She practically looked the same as last I saw her. Wearing a red dress that some would say is a tad too tight. She had a certain aura around her, and if you weren't careful, she would consume you. I'm pretty sure there was a word for women like her, Femme Fatales, but I'll stick with trouble.

"What brings you all the way out here vomit-boy?" Of course she had to go for the low blow. She was an expert at getting under peoples skin, among other things.

"It's Jaune, and I'm just here to partake in the atmosphere of the place." I say not breaking eye contact with her. If she sees any weakness whatsoever, that's it, you'd be putty in her hands. A particular skill she uses to get what she wants when she wants, very helpful in this line of work.

"Well you've always had crappy tastes in places." She says as she continues her seductive walk in my direction. "You can relax vomit-boy," I tighten my grip on the gun grip. "Oh, I see that you've kept it, I'm touched." Her eyes glance down at my hand which is still resting on the gun. "Don't worry, I won't bite," She says with that familiar seductive tone. Her mouth was now next to my ear. _When did she get this close?_ "Unless you want me too." Ok, now she was definitely too close, I catch the whiff of embers, she always loved the perfume, don't know why though.

...

The asshole orders me to get up from my booth and walk slowly towards the counter. This was a risky bet, and I'm just glad I didn't get shot. I walk towards him, left side of my body facing forward, I need to try and conceal my weapon for as long as possible.

...

"I thought you said you didn't like guns?" She asked finally uninvading my personal space.

"I still don't," I say removing my hand from the grip. "But you can't be too careful around these parks."

"I know what you mean, a lot of dangerous people here," She says as she looks back at me. "If you're not too careful, something bad might happen." And with that she turns back and goes on her way.

A part of me wonders why she was here of all places, this is a huge red flag. She doesn't just do things for the fun of it. There was always an angle with her. But thinking about it now would bring me nothing but stress, and I really don't need that now.

...

As I approach him I can see that the hand that's holding the gun is shaking. His pupils are fully dilated. His breathing is rapid. He is scared. I didn't like that, because the thing about scared people is that they tend to do stupid things. And the thing about stupid things, I often have a tendency to get in the middle of them.

...

I walked into the Pub and looked around to get a feel of the place. The counter was ahead of me with a single bartender. To my right there is a TV playing a sport of some kind, I never kept up with them so I look past it. There is a counter with stools along the wall that leads into a private booth, the perfect spot to stakeout. A few keno machines in the back, by them are two doors, I'm assuming they are bathrooms. A few table and chairs sorted around the place. Overall it seems like a typical bar, minus the patrons. Other than the fifty something bartender behind the counter and a young looking waitress, I count about two other people. For a place with the reputation it has, doesn't seem to be that busy.

I approach the counter and knock twice on it. The old bartender turns and looks at me.

"What can I get ya?"

"Actually," I say as I reach for the wanted poster in my coat pocket. "I was wondering if you had seen this ma…shit." Empty. Why the hell was my pocket empty? I swear I grabbed the poster before I left my vehicle… son of a bitch. I can hear the engine start from a vehicle outside.

 _She didn't_.

...

I pull out my gun and aim it towards him. This was either gonna end really bad or I might just end up with a small bullet wound. Well, I was due for some good luck one of these days right?

...

She did.

"Give me the best whiskey you got." I say as I take a seat in the booth.

"Sure thing." the waitress says. "You got any identification on you, or is there another reason you're carrying?"

"Work related." I say as I show her the gun permit.

She grabs the permit from my hand. I'm not sure if she has seen a gun permit before, but before I can ask her about it she hands it back. "What kind of work?"

"The kind that requires some insurance," I say as I unholster my gun "And sometimes a really lucky bluff." I unload the clip from the gun and put it on the table.

"Empty?" The waitress asks as she picks it up. "You sure that is a smart thing to do?" She hands me back the clip.

"I don't like guns, but I do think they are necessary, especially as a scare tactic." I put the clip back in the gun and holster it. "Besides, what's the worst that can happen?"

 **Author's Note:**

 **This story my look familiar to some of you, it was originally a Qrow one-shot I had written, but I didn't notice until a year or so later that the line breaks didn't show up properly. So it left readers confused about the narrative since there were supposed to be cuts to indicate time jumps. So after a few years I decided to re-edit the story to fit into the What if? Series.**

 **That's pretty much all for this AN, till next time.**


	4. What if? 4

" **What if?... Jaune Arc went through a rebellious phase, and Nora started a riot."**

"This is the fifth time you've been in here Mr. Arc." That familiar stern voice. "I'm not sure if you like ending up here, or just stubborn." It felt like an interrogation, maybe it was, I can envision this room with four grey walls and two-way mirror. _Wait…. Is she still talking?_ "And sometimes I'm not sure if anything gets trough that head of yours."

 _Holy shit she is, we've had this discussion many times before, and this is just another lecture to go in one ear and out the other._

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Ok, they're looking at me now. Are they expecting me to start talking?

"Are you expecting to start talking?" I ask, realizing now that was the wrong this to say. Stern eyes changed into annoyed eyes. "Ok, just so we're clear, I was with you up until the whole stubborn thing. Feeling a bit insulted at that remark." Ok, those annoyed eyes are an emotion I don't even know, it could be pissed, maybe constipated. "I'm not trying to be difficult, I swear."

"Uh huh." Ok, back to annoyed.

"I just feel like there was no precedence for situations like these." Ooh precedence, nice use of vocabulary. "How was I supposed to know that a few water balloons filled with Red Sap would incite a small riot."

"They were given to Ms. Valkyrie, Mr. Arc." Goodwitch tome turned even more serious, if that was even possible. "There is a reason why we don't let your team near the Red Sap reserves."

"In my defense, I just supplied the Red Sap balloons. Whatever she decide to do with them is out of my hands." Boom. Solid defense, go me. Oh hey, there's the constipated look again.

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Hello again, I had originally had a Halloween one-shot planned for today, but haven't actually gotten around to finishing it. I don't want to make the excuse of classes being too overwhelming, cause they are, I just don't want that to be my excuse. Sorry this is a short one, I've had it lying in my files for a while and decided to just edit it a bit and release it as a What if? one-shot.**

 **As with the other ones, this one was written with the intention of a bigger story around it, though I never actually gotten around to writing it.**

 **That's about all I have to say this time around, so be on the look out for that Halloween one-shot that'll come out long after Halloween.**

 **Till next time. see ya.**


End file.
